The Long Awaited Answer
by highway-salvation
Summary: AU/OC - Ryan  OC  and Sam both get thrown into the pit by Michael, and are trapped for three years. When they're finally pulled out, Ryan expects to pick things up where she left them off with Dean, but finds him in a perfectly normal situation with Lisa.
1. Chapter 1

_The thing that nobody understood on earth was that "hell" was just a word. You could put it in a sentence, name a hot wing flavor after it, you could pretty much do whatever the _hell _you wanted. Because in reality, it was, just a word. But trust me, once you've been down to the pit, you stop saying that particular word so nonchalantly. It stops being just another part of your vocabulary, and it starts being a part of your every thought. Instead of being able to pull the word out whenever it was convenient for you, it became a picture that would resurface every time you blinked. It became a vivid memory that you couldn't turn off, no matter how hard you tried. Nothing ever worked. Sleeping, large amounts of alcohol, none of it ever muffled the images that were burned into your memory. Frankly, trying to make them go away only made them that much worse._

"Is there something you're not telling me here, Sam?" she asked, the volume in her voice raising.

It had been four days since they'd been thrown back on earth. Four days that she'd been on her toes, constantly pacing the multiple motel rooms that they'd acquired. Four days that Sam had called "their time to readjust". Sure, they'd been in hell. And yes, as vessels for two extremely evil entities, they'd been calling the shots on major torture sessions and some bone chilling possessions. But for Ryan, all of that was pushed into the back of her memory. In the speed of a blink, they were back in that cemetery. And from that moment, there was only one thing on her mind.

"Listen to me, you need to trust me. We just need to give it a few more days," he replied, trying his best to calm her down. It wasn't working.

"A few more day-" she nearly screamed, and Sam inhaled. Wrong thing to say.

On earth, it had been a whopping three years since they were thrashed into the pit by Carreau and Lucifer. Three years. In hell, however, it had been close to thirty six hundred years. Three thousand, six hundred years. In the pit. In the fire. No stopping, barely breathing. Three thousand six hundred years of nothing but pure evil.

"You were down there with me. Every single day. All those years… and now, you have the nerve to stand here and tell me that I have to wait a few more days? I've waited for almost four thousand years, god dammit!" she fought. And she'd continue to fight until she got her way.

"Why is it so bad for me to want to see him?" she questioned, scaring herself to even think of the reasons. Sam didn't say anything.

"Sam… why aren't you letting me find him?" Still, he remained silent. Her centuries old heart began to clench, and she was thankful that it still had the ability to do so.

He took a breath and finally gathered up the courage to look at her. "I don't think he wants you to find him, Ry."


	2. Chapter 2

_3 Years Ago: **Dean**_

Within his clenched fist, the dead grass crumbled. He couldn't even feel the blades scratch against his skin. For all he knew, he was dead too. Castiel had healed his swollen face, which should have taken away the physical pain. But it didn't. Not even close. There was a hole in his stomach that burned worse than hellfire. And it wasn't the kind of burn that scorched the skin, it was the kind that enveloped your soul in a world of hurt. The kind that would scar, and even though he wouldn't always be able to feel it, it would always be there.

They were both gone.

Sammy, little Sammy, was gone. His little brother, the biggest pain in his ass that used to tug at his sleeve and annoy the crap out of him-hell, still did-was in the one place where he'd always tried to protect him from. He was somewhere in the pit, trapped in his own body as Lucifer took him over.

He was gone. And Dean wasn't going to be able to make a deal to bring him back this time. He was too deep in it.

His eyes shut together tightly, willing this nightmare to go away. How was he going to survive losing his baby brother again? And on top of that, losing Ryan? His best friend, his partner in crime. The only girl he'd ever met that didn't wuss out when the going got tough. The girl who fought by his side. The girl he'd loved for nearly ten years. Gone. Dead.

He pressed two fingers into the bridge of his nose, the reality of it all crashing into him with the weight of a freight train. It seemed almost impossible to cry, because if he were to cry, he could have sworn he wouldn't be able to stop. Besides his flaky angel friend, he was completely alone. And being alone didn't suit well with him. It never had.


	3. Chapter 3

_3 Weeks Later: __**Ryan**_

"You need to eat something, darlin'," Samuel nudged Ryan as he pushed a sandwich in front of her.

He'd said it in a gentle tone, but she knew he might as well have been demanding it. When Grandpa told you to do something, you just did it. Samuel Campbell had been resurrected along with Sam and Ryan, except he'd been pulled down instead of pulled up. He'd been taken out of heaven, and for a reason that none of them could seem to find.

"I'm not hungry, Mr. Campbell," she replied respectfully, hoping that he wouldn't nag her anymore. She knew that all he wanted was for her to be healthy, but she had no desire to eat. She had no desire to do much of anything. When she felt herself on the verge of passing out, she made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But other than that, her stomach remained empty apart from shots of tequila.

"I know you're not hungry. But the fact of the matter is, if you don't put something in that stomach of yours besides hard liquor, you're gonna end up in the hospital."

Ryan rolled her eyes, grudgingly took a bite of the sandwich, and with cheeks full of peanut butter and jelly, smiled. "Happy?" she asked, her voice muffled by the food.

He smiled and shook his head. It was typical behavior for her. Satisfied, he left garage, and Ryan relaxed. She finished the bite she'd taken and pushed the sandwich as far away from her as she could.

Everyone around her did nothing but frustrate her. Especially Sam, who would constantly tell her what to do and fight with her when she tried to push against his newfound authority. She'd dealt with Lucifer's bossy ass inside of Sam for way too long. She wasn't going to deal with actual Sam telling her what to do on earth.

Ryan looked around the shack, realizing that she was finally alone. An idea sparked in her head, and she headed toward the back door, nearly tiptoeing by force of habit. Sam's black Dodge Charger was parked a few feet away from the place, and from what she could see, there was no one around. She'd taken a bobby pin before leaving and dug it out of her pocket, ready to use some of the everyday tricks that she'd learned in the beginning of her hunting career.

After unlocking the door of the car, she slid in quietly, making sure not to slam the door and cause any unwanted attention. She attempted to hotwire the car, but every time the engine tried to start, it would stall. Three unsuccessful attempts, and she finally gave up. Sam's face nearly made her wet herself as he leaned down and knocked on the window. Guiltily, she opened the door, folded her arms over her chest, and looked up at him.

"Going somewhere?" he inquired, his eyebrows raised. He knew exactly where she was trying to go, and now he was just patronizing her. She cleared her throat, but said nothing.

"You think I'm stupid enough to leave my car alone, and ready to _drive, _with you around? C'mon, Ry, you should know me better than that," he teased, raising an eyebrow as he walked away from her_._

_Son of a bitch._

"One of these days, I'm not gonna care about having a car anymore. Walking to Cicero will get me some sweet calves…" she warned, mimicking his raised eyebrow. "We'll see about that," he said without turning back to look.

He was pretty good at pissing her off.

Frustrated, Ryan walked back into their trashy little hideaway and went straight for the bathroom. It was really the only place where she could get some privacy in the shithole the Campbells' called a home. After locking the door, she turned the faucet onto cold. She splashed some water in her face, hoping to wash away at least a little bit of stress. She didn't like where she was. Not only did she feel like an outsider, but she felt unsafe. For most of her life, there had only ever been one person who could ever make her feel safe. And go figure, that was the one person she was "prohibited" from seeing.

"You think he still loves you?" a familiar voice asked.

It was too familiar. Ryan's stomach tightened as she recognized the voice as her own. But she knew the voice all to well to know that it wasn't really her voice. It had that specific twinge of evil to it that would make it recognizable to her for as long as she lived. She looked up into the mirror and saw her own reflection, making a face that she was not making. It wasn't her. It was Carreau, who had been left in hell when she'd been taken out. She tried to mask her shock, but Carreau would know. She always knew.

"Well, that's all I get? A little jaw drop? Not even a _'Hiya, soul mate! How ya been since I left you down in hell to rot?'_" she asked, her dead eyes staring straight into Ryan's.

It was uncanny, no matter how many demons, ghosts, shape shifters or any other kind of monster Ryan had faced, Carreau was still the only one that knew just the right way to scare the shit of her.

"What the hell is this? You're supposed to be dead…"

"But that's the catch, isn't baby? I never die. If you're alive, I'm alive."

"Whatever pulled me out… it left you there." Ryan shook her head as she spoke, trying to shake away everything. This couldn't be real.

"You're right. It did. But guess what? I'm back!" she smiled that devilish smile, causing the hair on the back of Ryan's neck to raise.

"No…" Ryan whispered.

"Yes." Carreau replied, but it wasn't through the mirror anymore. It was right in front of her. Ryan had blinked and then Carreau had appeared. She was looking at herself, just herself with a devious smile and sluttier clothes. Ryan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Everything around Carreau seemed to go hazy, and all Ryan could really make out was the image of Carreau's open hands coming towards her neck. Ryan attempted to back up, but landed against the wall. As she struggled to open the door, Carreau grabbed her hand, thrashed it into the wall, breaking it, and using only one hand, continued to choke the life out of her.

Just as things started to go hazy, Ryan felt a jolt being shot into her left shoulder blade. After falling down and catching her breath, her eyes adjusted and she could see that there was no sign that Carreau had ever been in the bathroom. Her hand was fine, and there was no marking on the wall. She turned around to see Sam with a syringe in his left hand, watching her worriedly.

"What the hell was that?" Ryan heaved, rubbing her neck.

"I think we might have a problem…" Sam said cryptically.

_No shit, idiot._


	4. Chapter 4

"A djinn?" Ryan questioned as she pulled on her boots.

"Yeah. And not just one. I'm guessing that since we killed one… the others are coming for vengeance. I don't know why else they'd be attacking us like this," Sam replied.

Samuel nodded, and inhaled. He stood against a table, looking down at the ground. Ryan watched him suspiciously, wondering what was eating at him. It wasn't as though they'd never dealt with djinns before, she wasn't sure why he seemed so stressed about it.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked after he exhaled through flared nostrils.

Something was up. He tore his glare away from the floor to look in her in the eye, and for a few seconds, he was completely silent. It was almost as if he was speaking to her without saying anything. She tried not to let it, but it scared her. After what felt like at least a minute, he looked to Sam.

"We're gonna have to tell him, Sam." Samuel said, and at that, Ryan knew exactly why he'd been staring.

She was going to have to finally find out just why they'd been keeping her from Dean for so long. Her jaw clenched as she looked up at Sam, who was returning the glance. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on her. Why was this such a big deal? What were they so afraid for her to find?

"Well, good. Let's go," she attempted to order, and stood up.

She pulled her leather jacket over her white tank top and threw Sam the keys to his car. No one had moved, and everyone was still looking at her.

"What? Dean was a part of killing that djinn, which means they're gonna be after him too. We need to find him and warn him. And we don't need to be wasting time here _staring _at me, so let's go," she ordered again, getting impatient.

"Maybe you should stay back, Ry," Sam said hesitantly, knowing that the response he was going to get wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

Ryan found herself almost laughing. She took in a long breath, wishing that Dean was around to calm her down. Her fist tightened, but she wouldn't show it. She needed to be calm, she didn't need them to know that she would fall apart if they didn't let her come along.

"Sam, stop it. All of you, stop it. I know that there's something you don't want me to know and I know that whatever it is… it's the reason why you don't want me going. But I swear to god, if you don't take me with you in that car, I won't be here when you get back. And you won't ever see me again."

Sam looked at her with pained eyes. It was obvious that he was just trying to protect her, but she didn't want his protecting anymore. She didn't care if she'd end up disappointed, hurt, or heartbroken. She just needed to see him. She needed to touch him, she needed to know he was still real.

"Don't make me do that, Sam. Please," she pleaded, her weak walls coming down with every passing second that they weren't in the car on their way to Indiana.

"Okay," was all he said, and as Samuel opened his mouth to interject, Sam put up a hand.

"No. If she wants to come, she can come," he said, and turned back to Ryan.

"But don't say we didn't warn you."


	5. Chapter 5

It was almost as if Sam knew that his brother was in danger.

The way he bolted into the garage of the house, like someone had just fired up dynamite under his ass. It scared her, no doubt, but he'd demanded that she stayed in the car until he knew for sure the scene was safe. As hard as it was not to go against him, she did. She didn't want to have that argument later. And plus, he'd done right by her by bringing her with him. It was becoming more and more apparent that all Sam really wanted was what was best for her. Even if that wasn't what she wanted all of the time.

Ryan fiddled with just about everything she could find, trying to quiet her nerves. It wasn't really working, considering she across the street from Dean's driveway. After thousands of years of being light years away, she was in his driveway. It was freaking her out.

And not only that, but the fact that Dean had a driveway was working her nerves as well.

Why the hell did he even have a house? Why wasn't he shacked up in some motel nearby, working on a case? Who did he live in this house with? The questions wouldn't stop. The questions kept flooding in, each worse than the last, each creating an entire new scenario in her head. And each scenario only made the knots get worse. She didn't like not knowing what was going on in his life. It didn't feel right. Her eyes were glued to the garage door, waiting for Sam to poke his head out and give her the signal that everything was all clear.

After a few bangs and clanks, Ryan almost got out of the car. She didn't want them both to end up dead while she just sat around like a benchwarmer. She'd made it halfway across the street when Sam finally did poke his head out of the door. He looked at her with tight lips, slightly angry that she'd disregarded his order. She felt herself mentally shrug as he nodded her to come in. She picked up the pace. Her heart was in her stomach, but she entered the garage. At first all she could see was Sam. He stared at her with the same look he'd been giving her for months. That same worried, sorrowful stare.

"I'll give you two a minute…" he said as his eyes hit the floor, and he slowly walked outside.

Ryan turned the corner, and feasted her eyes on possibly the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

It was a mix of emotions at that moment. She felt pain, but it was a pain she'd never really experienced before. It wasn't the kind of pain you felt it in hell. It was the kind you felt in heaven. The kind that awakened every nerve, even the ones you'd forgot you had. It was the kind of pain that felt too good to describe. She felt it deep in her gut, and immediately, it caused tears to fill in her eyes. It was useless to try to stop them, so she just didn't.

Her sobs came quickly, in little spurts, and instinctively, she rushed toward him. Her arms wrapped around his neck tighter than they ever had before. Slowly, he responded, folding his arms around her as well. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest, which only caused her cries to strengthen in volume. She hadn't felt that in centuries.

Although the last thing she wanted to do in the entire world was pull away from him, she knew she had to. After a few minutes of doing nothing but embracing, she finally loosened her grip and backed up a few steps. Frankly, she was happy just stand there and look at him. She sniffled a few times and wiped her eyes, her makeup probably smeared all over her face. When she found the strength, she looked back to him. He was staring at her with the same expression Sam had. Except unlike Sam's expression, there were tears in his eyes. But she ignored it. There was something underlying all of this, but she didn't want to know. For just a minute, she wanted to be Ryan and Dean. She wanted to be normal.

"I missed you…" was all she could muster.

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from her for a few seconds.

Ryan began to look him up and down, taking in every inch of him. Every inch that she'd been deprived of for so long. She took in his feet, his jeans, his-oddly enough-tucked in shirt, and the jacket that wasn't his favorite leather one. But as she looked down at his left hand, everything suddenly went dark.

She felt herself go cold.

It all made sense now. After finding the ability to tear her gaze away from the silver band that rested on his ring finger, she looked to him, her eyebrows pushed together and her face completely drenched in pain that even hell couldn't compare to.

"Dean… tell me you didn't…" she nearly sobbed.

He looked at her for a few moments, trying to find the right words. But there were no right words. There was only the true answer, the answer that she was for sure would kill her.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

"You got _married_?" her voice was laced with defeat. She didn't want to believe it.

She wasn't crying anymore. The part of her that wanted to cry was now being overpowered by shock. Dean was married. Married. To some stranger. The man who would laugh in the face of commitment now had a thick silver band on his ring finger. That would explain the driveway, the house… the tucked in shirt. She exhaled, mainly in disbelief. They'd all tried to hide him from her for this exact reason, and frankly, she wished she'd never found him. The pain of knowing he'd nailed the coffin shut by saying his marriage vows to another woman was far worse than the pain of not having him in her life at all. Ignorance wouldn't have been bliss, but it sure as hell would have been better than this.

"You were dead. For three years," he said huskily after a few moments of silence.

Her eyes quickly traveled to meet his. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him on this, it wasn't like he could walk away from marriage. She would never ask him to do that. But what could she do? The logical part of her knew that it wouldn't end well. She would be the one that would have to walk away. But the irrational part of her-her heart-wouldn't allow her to pick up her feet.

"You got married…" she said again, this time in a soft whisper. But he heard it.

"I got married. And we're having a baby. I'm happy, Ry… we're happy," he revealed, sounding almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

But to her, he was just salting the open wound. Her eyes shut tightly, pushing a few more tears down her cheeks. Married. Baby. Happy. How was this even possible?

"I see…" she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him for the last time.

She couldn't stand there with him anymore. It was as if someone-a UFC fighter, probably-had punched her in the stomach. If she stood near him any longer, she'd throw up.

"I-I have to go." Frantically, she rushed out of the garage, unsure if he had even tried to call out to her or come after her. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She kept her eyes on Sam, who was propped up against the Charger, a sympathetic look on his face. At the sight of him, she began to run, practically crashing into his arms as she broke down. She wished she'd listened. She wished she'd stayed back.

Sam's oversized arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. He was keeping her together at that point. If he hadn't been there, she wouldn't have made it. There was no way. She drenched his button-down with her tears, heaving almost as he tried to comfort her.

"It's gonna be okay…" he said as he smoothed her hair.

But they both knew that was a lie. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.


	7. Chapter 7

**3 Years and 4 Months Ago**

_After a few deep breaths that she'd tried to keep discreet, Ryan turned her body around to face Dean and criss-crossed her legs. Despite the look on his face, she felt a little better about the whole thing when she was looking at him. _

"_I've played this out a million times in my head… and I had the perfect speech prepared, but of course, I don't remember a single word of it," she began to trail off. _

_To keep herself steady, she looked back at him. Staring at her were the worlds kindest eyes-in her opinion, anyway-and they did exactly what she needed them to. Exactly what they always did. They brought her back to earth. "Dean Winchester, you've been my boyfriend since I was seventeen years old. We've had fights, we've had other people, and we sure as hell have had our share of bad days. But at the end of the day, you were always the person I wanted to go to sleep with, the person I wanted to wake up with, and the person I wanted to do all of the things in between with. That never changed…" she was proud of herself for getting that far, and she knew that she'd be able to do the hardest part. _

"_I can't explain to you-I can barely explain to myself-how much I love you, how raw and unattainable my love is for you. It's bigger than any evil we've ever faced, it's stronger than the evil that used to live inside of me. And I know that this isn't really in your life plan… but I just thought I'd ask…" she continued, and took the hand he wasn't holding his keys with into hers. She squeezed it and with tears blanketing over her hazel green eyes, looked straight into his. _

"_Will you please be my husband?" Throughout her speech, he found himself hanging on every word she had to say. He had no clue where this was heading or why, but he could tell that it was important to her. Maybe even life changing. _Will you please be my husband?

_Boy, was he right. For the first few seconds he stared at her, wide eyed and slack jawed. Shock, joy, and a little flare of pain flashed across his face in sequence and he exhaled in disbelief. When he looked up her, his eyes were glazed with tears of his own but his expression was grim with remorse. _

_"Listen to me.." he said and cupped both of his hands over hers. _

_"I would say yes in a heartbeat, you know that I would. There is nothing that would make more happy than to be your husband, but I don't know if we can. If we got married, the target on your head would only get bigger and bigger. I'm taking a risk even being around you let alone.. this." _

_A single teardrop hit his hand and the second that sob left her throat, his heart fell into his stomach. She was in pain and yet again, he had caused it. _

_"Wait." he said, his voice thick as he said it. _

_"Forget it. Baby, I'm stupid.. I'll marry you." He cupped her cheek, gazing into those beautiful green eyes. _

_"I'll be your husband."_

The scorching hot water from the shower wasn't doing its job. Sam had urged her to take one since they'd checked into the motel, and she'd finally obliged just to get him off of her back. After the afternoon she'd had, she was thankful that the shower granted her something she needed. Solitude. But other than that, it did nothing. It didn't wash away the stress of the situation like it usually did.

With a towel on her head, she walked out into the small living room of the motel. She went straight for the bed, hoping to get in a few hours of sleep before they had to leave. They'd warned Dean of the djinn, hopefully they wouldn't need to stay near him much longer. She removed the towel, smoothed through her long dark hair with her fingers, and rested her head against the pillow. Sleeping seemed to be the only option left. It was the only way she could get away from the world, the world that had changed so much in the time that she'd been gone. The world that she no longer wanted to be a part of.

Just as she'd started to drift off, she was thrashed back into consciousness by the sound of Sam's phone going off. Ryan's eyes shot open immediately, always expecting the worst when that phone went off. Sam looked at the caller I.D. and hesitated for a few seconds, but answered it.

"Hey," he said into the receiver, and at that, she knew who was on the other end.

She looked away from him, forcing herself close her eyes. As hard as she tried to block out the conversation, it was impossible. Sam was less than ten feet away from her.

"We're not sure how many there are just yet, we're working on it… Yeah, we'll be here for the next couple of days, I'm hoping now that the three of us are in the same area, they'll all just be drawn to us…" He said, and it went quiet.

"How do you think she's doing? No, she's asleep."

She kept her eyes closed, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she was trying to block newly formed tears from falling down. She didn't want to cry anymore.

"Dean, you married another girl… of course she's not okay. And she's not gonna be okay for a while… No, I don't know if that's a good idea… She needs to be ready to fight, and she's teetering on the edge right now, seeing you… I don't know what it'll do to her… Alright. Yeah, I'll call you when I get some answers…" he waited for a few moments and then flipped the phone shut.

Ryan shifted onto her side, exhaling after holding her breath for the length of the conversation. It came hand in hand with the tears she was trying to force out. It had become pointless to try to stop them. They would never stop coming.

"Ry, you awake?" Sam asked, genuine worry in his voice.

She placed a hand over her mouth to shut out the sound, but he would see her shoulders shake as she started to cry. All she could do was hope that he would leave her alone.


	8. Chapter 8

The car ride back to Dean's house was dead silent. Ryan stared out the Charger's window with a hardened expression, numb to the pain that she should have been feeling. It was out of her nature to be so weak, so she decided that it was time to fight back against her broken heart.

Her jaw clenched as they pulled into the neighborhood, and she became more and more disgusted as they passed each perfect little suburban, two car garage, perfectly manicured household. There was no doubt in her mind that Dean felt out of place here, that he yearned to be back on the road. But she didn't sympathize with him anymore. In fact, it was strangely comforting knowing that he was suffering in his little three bedroom and 2.5 bath.

Before they even reached Dean's driveway, she knew something was off. Call it intuition, or maybe perhaps the fact that they'd been attached at the hip since they were teenagers, but Ryan felt the danger that he was in. Sam had barely put the car in park before she was on her feet, running towards the open front door. Maybe she was angry, maybe she was happy that he was unhappy, but she couldn't live in a world where he didn't exist. Even if he was existing with another woman.

"Ryan!" Sam called after her, hastily slamming his car door shut. But she was already at the door, and if even if she had heard him, she wouldn't have turned around.

Dean was being attacked by two djinn's, one holding him steady while the other started to use their alternate universe mojo. Ryan snuck in unnoticed and picked up a lamp, slamming it into the second djinn before it could get close enough to send Dean on his own personal acid trip. He fell to the ground, gasping for air as he fought against the urge to pass out, and she readied herself to take on the other djinn, who was much larger.

"You killed our father…" it snarled, walking towards Ryan, nearly towering over her. She got in a good punch, sending it stumbling back a few steps, but it recovered quickly and was returning for more.

"That wasn't me, sweetheart, but I'll give you a go anyway,"

The djinn slammed into her, knocking her face to the side with its gigantic fist, cutting her cheek. But when it thought that she wasn't going to fight back anymore, she elbowed it roughly in the face, catching it off guard and sending a hard kick into the middle of its chest.

Ryan's hands were up, protecting her face as she watched it and kept an eye on the other one, who was stirring and starting to get to its feet. She heard Sam bust in behind her as she round housed the djinn in front of her, sending him to the ground, giving her the perfect opportunity to send a lamb's blood soaked knife straight into its heart.

She wiped her hands as Sam finished off the other one, and looked over to see Dean finally getting to his feet. In the world she knew, she would have been at his side, checking out every inch of him to make sure he was alright. But this wasn't the world she knew, so she left him alone. If he was hurt, he had a different nurse to tend to his wounds.

"That's it right? They're dead, we're good?" Ryan asked, wiping the bloody knife off on her jacket.

"I think so. You good?" Sam asked Dean.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Then let's go." Ryan said quickly, not looking at either of them as she turned, stepping over the dead bodies and walking toward the front door.

"Ryan," he said in protest, his voice low, laced with the burden that he carried.

She involuntarily stopped in her tracks. Slowly, she turned around to face them, trying with everything she had to maintain her composure, to keep her expression as hard as it had been in the car.

Her eyebrows raised, as if to ask what he wanted, because she couldn't imagine speaking at that point. If she let out a single word, she was afraid that it would turn into her breaking down. And there would be no more breaking down.

"Can we talk? Please?"


	9. Chapter 9

Sam had conveniently received an urgent phone call from Samuel, who was going on about something to do with alphas, and the relation to them and the case at hand. Despite Ryan's protests, he'd left, promising that he'd be back in no time. Call it her mind playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn she saw Dean wink at him before he walked out the door.

She exhaled loudly as he left her alone, and folded her arms tightly against her chest. This wasn't going to be a caring-and-sharing experience for her, she wouldn't let it. Things had already gone far enough, and she'd already let herself cry in front of him about this whole situation more than she should have. If she was ever going to move on, she had to close off her heart. For good.

The stale air conditioner mixing with the smell of dead genie wasn't doing much for her stomach, so she began to walk towards the door.

"Ry, please," he pleaded, thinking that she was trying to make another stealthy escape.

Without turning to face him, she said, "You wanna talk, talk outside. I don't like the smell of this place."

He followed her silently as she walked toward the empty driveway, taking a seat in the middle and bringing her legs to her chest. He sat down beside her, bending one leg and leaning onto his knee. Her heart pounded against her chest, but she fought against the feeling of nervousness. She knew what was coming, and although she wanted to bolt from the driveway and run as far away as her legs would take her, she knew that he needed to say it.

"Look, Ry, I know all of this… it isn't what you expected when you came back-"

"You're damn right, it wasn't," she snarled.

"Let me finish. When you died," he looked away from her, his jaw clenching tightly. It was the first time she looked at him, and the look on his face broke her heart all over again.

"When you died, when Sam died, I was alone. I tried to hunt, and you bet your ass I went to the ends of this damn earth trying to find a way to bring you back. But no demon would deal, and no book had a spell. I was out of answers. You think I watched you die, watched you get thrown into _hell_, and then packed up the next day and hit the road looking for Lisa? I didn't. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I didn't do a damn thing for months except try to find a way to save your ass. To get you back."

Her eyes searched the empty pavement, looking for some snide comeback to send his way, to diminish the efforts that he put toward finding his girlfriend and his brother when they were sent to the pit. But she found nothing. Nothing except a growing, aching hole that had found new home in her stomach.

"And time just kept passing. I never found a damn thing… I even punched Cas one time for telling me that there was no way to get you out. I didn't want to believe it. But after eight months of nothing, I couldn't help but start to feel it. And then Lisa found me."

"Stop."

"You don't want to hear this, I get it. But you _need _to hear this,"

"You were supposed to marry me! You were supposed to have babies with _me_! I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. You were everything. Everything. For ten years. Your goddamn right I don't want to hear this," as the words left her lips, she started to cry, but stopped herself before the sobs became uncontrollable. She took in a deep breath and turned away from him, regretting the fact that she'd let herself slip. She'd let her wall come down.

"Look at me."

As she kept her eyes locked on the street, she could feel them start to well up with tears. How could she? How was any of it even possible?

"Look at me."

Her nostrils flared as she shifted her gaze toward him. The expression on her face was no longer hard. It was no longer illustrating the numbness that she felt inside. Her expression was twisted with utter, complete defeat, and heartbreak.

"You know that it's always gonna be you. Deep down, you know that. And as much I don't want to believe it, as much as I'm gonna try to change it, I'll never be able to."

Ryan's eyes shut tightly, releasing two tear drops down her cheeks. With clenched fists, she willed herself to open them, to face the new, terribly reality that she'd been thrashed into.

"But I have to say goodbye to you now," she could see the glassiness in his eyes as the words came out, and he choked back whatever cries were rising in his throat.

The headlights of the Charger illuminated the darkened street, and Ryan got to her feet in a hurry. She looked back just once at the broken man standing in the driveway, the man who would never truly leave her heart. The man who used to keep the toilet seat up on purpose, because he knew that she got up in the middle of the night and was too sleepy to remember to put it down. The man who would pay her in pieces of apple pie to do his math homework. The man who would let her drive his car and do figure eights in stranded parking lots. The man who had saved her more times than she could count. The man who could electrocute every fiber in her being just by kissing her. The man who she was supposed to spend the rest of her life loving.

She locked eyes with him for the last time, and got into the car.


	10. Epilogue: Part I

**Epilogue: **_**2 Years Later**_**, Part I**

"_You've reached Sam Winchester, leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, bye._"

"Hey, Sam, it's me. Listen, man, I know this is kind of out of the blue and everything… but Lisa and the kids and I are having a pretty good spread over here on Christmas day and we'd love to have you over. Haven't seen you in a while and… well, yeah. Let me know."

The fitted red sweater she'd chosen for the event showed off her newly acquired baby bump in just the right way. A giddy future mom, Ryan ran her hand over her bulging belly as often as she could, hoping for any kicks or twitches. They hadn't felt the first kick yet, but the doctor had told them that it would be any day now. Christmas day marked the end of her eighteenth week, and the glow of pregnancy was radiating off of her. She was completely beautiful in her sweater and maternity jeans, but it wasn't just the pregnancy that was brightening her skin and softening her hazel eyes. It was love. She was in deep, desperate love with a good, kindhearted man. She was happy.

And that was an emotion she thought she'd never feel again.

Her fingers laced tightly with Sam's as they walked up the steps of Dean's front porch. Ten years ago, if she had seen this scene, she would have laughed at the backwardness of it. Never in a million years would she have predicted herself to be holding hands with Sam Winchester while she walked up to Dean Winchester's front door, awaiting his wife to greet them. Yeah, she definitely would have laughed.

But the thing was, at that moment, on that cold, rainy Christmas day in Indiana, she was okay with the situation. The security and warmth that she felt holding Sam's hand embodied everything that she loved about him. From the moment Dean had shattered her into a million pieces, Sam had been carefully and quietly piecing her back together. As she fought the torrential battle against her own broken heart, Sam was holding her up, pushing her to get through each day and slowly opening her eyes to the idea that Dean wasn't the only man in the world that would ever love her.

Sam glanced at her, a smile full of admiration spread on his lips. He rang the door bell, completely comfortable with the fact that Dean and Ryan were about to see each other for the first time since they'd separated for good. He had faith in the relationship that he had with Ryan, and he knew her well enough to know that she would never put herself in a position to be hurt the way Dean had hurt her before. Honestly, they both knew she wouldn't be able to survive something like that again.

As they both expected, Lisa opened the door. Her hair was shorter, cut to her shoulders and framing her face. It suited her, considering she was now a mother of two that drove a minivan and went to PTA meetings. Ryan and Sam both smiled as she took in the sight of them. Holding hands, baby bump, everything. Sam hadn't told Dean that Ryan was coming. Sam hadn't told Dean that he and Ryan were together. Sam hadn't told Dean that Ryan was pregnant. "Sam… Ryan… wow! Come in, come in, get out of the cold!" The puzzled expression that contorted her face had been washed away with a smile as she ushered them into the house, the same house that they'd killed multiple djinns in nearly two years before.

"Lisa, your home is beautiful," Ryan complimented as she shrugged off her jacket and handed it to Lisa, who was taking Sam's as well.

"Well, thank you. Believe me, this is the cleanest its been in months. A sixteen year old, a two year old and Dean Winchester don't exactly allow this place to be spic and span very often," she said with a laugh, obviously nervous and hesitant of the fact that her husband's long-term ex-girlfriend was standing in her home.

As if on cue, Dean walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer. He was in jeans and a polo, looking like the epitome of a soccer dad. Well, a soccer dad whose goofy grin twisted into the same face of confusion as soon as he laid eyes on them.

"Whoa…" he muttered under his breath.

Ryan just smiled, her grip on Sam's hand tightening. Dean's expression changed as his eyes shifted over the scene, the hands, the baby bump, the pregnancy glow…

The look of disbelief on his face was making everybody uncomfortable, but there weren't exactly words that could be said to break the ice. Sam had thrown him in with the sharks on this one by not telling him ahead of time, and now they were all paying the price with an extremely awkward moment.

"Are you two…?" His pointer finger danced between them, and then he motioned with his hand to his belly, signifying the bulge that was pressing against her red sweater.

"Yes. We're together. And we're having a baby," Ryan replied, leaning into Sam with a grin.

"Huh…" Dean huffed, licking his bottom lip.

"Isn't that nice, Dean? Sam and Ryan are having a baby!" Lisa urged, obviously trying to break through whatever thoughts were going through Dean's head. He turned to look at her and stared blankly for a few seconds, but then caught on, as if he'd been in a daze and had just been woken up.

"What? Oh, right. Yeah, very nice. I'm very happy for the two of you," he said, and plastered an obviously fake grin onto his face.

"I'm just gonna go… check on the turkey…" he trailed off as he walked back into the kitchen, keeping his eyes glued on the two them until he turned the corner.

Although Lisa was obviously concerned for the state of her husband, she turned to Ryan and Sam and smiled. "Can I get you two a drink?" "Yes," they replied simultaneously.


	11. Epilogue: Part II

**Epilogue: _2 Years Later_, Part II**

The gin and tonic in Ryan's hand was remedying the tension in the room. Sam sat next to her on the couch across from Lisa's parents, who were both extremely nice people that didn't fake smiles and were genuinely concerned when they asked Ryan about her pregnancy. It was easy to talk to them, and if Lisa was anything like her parents, Ryan understood the appeal that she had. They were light, warm people that made you feel at home. The conversation went on for about twenty minutes before Ryan excused herself to the bathroom, blaming her unsteady bladder.

She washed her hands in the guest bathroom and took in all of the minute details that Lisa had paid attention to in decorating the space. If Ryan had been in this situation two years ago, she would have been denying everything, searching only for reasons to hate Dean's new wife. But as she stood in the guest bathroom, eyeing her own reflection, she knew that this was the perfect woman to take her place. Lisa took care of Dean, took care of his home, his children. Even if Ryan wanted to hate her, she wouldn't have been able to.

Instead of going back to the living room, she decided to take a little tour around the first floor of the house on her own. Not to be snoopy, but to admire more of Lisa's decorating, perhaps as a muse for whenever her and Sam finally settled down in their own house. She looked in on the guest room, which was beautiful and neat, walked past an open living room that was more for watching television and relaxing than for the chatting that was going on in the other living room. And finally, she approached what must have been the master bedroom. Figuring that Dean and Lisa were both in the kitchen finishing dinner, she decided to sneak a peek. But instead of finding an empty bedroom, she found Dean, changing a diaper on the bed. As soon as the door had creaked open, he turned around, the look on his face completely changing when he realized it wasn't Lisa.

"Sorry… I was just… looking around,"

"Snoopin'?"

"No. Just… admiring. Your wife certainly has an eye for detail."

She felt it, he felt it, hell, the two year old on the bed probably felt it. The words '_your wife_' coming out of Ryan Singer's mouth and being directed at Dean Winchester was a foreign concept to both of them. They'd never had a casual conversation about his spouse, or his child. It was all too unusual, too unreal for it to be talked about like the weather.

"Is that…?" Ryan's neck craned as she attempted to look past Dean to the toddler, who was staring up at the both of them with big green eyes.

"Yeah. Ryan, this is Mary. Mary, this is Ryan Singer,"

Her light brown hair danced in her face as she picked her head up, mumbled something incoherent and then lay back down, waiting for Dean to finish changing her.

"She's beautiful," Ryan's throat was tightening as she said it, unexpected tears glazing over her eyes. But it wasn't because of the fact that Dean's daughter wasn't hers, it was the plain and simple fact that she was beautiful and she that she looked almost identical to her old man.

He could hear the heaviness in her voice.

"Thanks," he replied without turning around.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Dean taped up the new diaper and picked Mary up off of the bed. She was smiling widely as he fixed her outfit, her hands touching every part of him that she could reach. He laughed as she poked his face, his ears, and played with his hair.

"Da-ee!" she let out ecstatically, almost singing the word.

"Yes, baby. You're ready to rock now. No more poopy-pants. Go get 'em," he said, kissed her forehead and set her down on the ground.

"Weddy wock!" She yelled, mimicking her father as best she could.

She walked out of the room, her sneakers lighting up with every step she took. Ryan watched, shaking her head in disbelief. When Mary was out of sight, she turned back to Dean, who was packing up the baby wipes and Huggies.

"She is definitely your daughter," Ryan laughed, the heaviness of her earlier comment now gone.

"Yep."

She turned to walk out of the room. "Well, I'm gonna g-"

"Tell me something," he interrupted without turning to face her.

She stopped in her tracks and waited for him to ask about the elephant in the room.

Before speaking, he slowly turned around. "Am I the only one that finds this completely whacked-out?"

"And by '_this_', you mean-"

"You know exactly what I mean. You. And Sam. And _that_…" he said, pointing to her stomach.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I invited Sam for Christmas. Thinking that maybe… just maybe, he'd show up. And what the hell does he do? He brings you, well not just you, but _pregnant _you and I'm just supposed to act like it's a normal part of the holiday?"

"What else do you suggest, Dean?" Ryan's tone was calm, because she'd expected this. She'd fought against not telling Dean that she was coming alongside Sam with an extremely pregnant belly, knowing that this would be the end result. Dean would keep quiet for a little while, but eventually, he'd snap.

"Look, I know we were wrong in not telling you-"

"Stop it, stop with the _we _this and _we _that and _we're _looking into this name and this color and-" Dean whined, his face contorting into that of a ten year old boy that listening to something he really didn't want to hear.

Ryan was at a loss. Her nostrils flared as she stared at his pouty lips.

"Dean Winchester…" she whispered furiously, "I am not going to stand here and let you bash me for moving on with my life! You are married. You have two children. There is nothing holding me to you anymore because you moved on with your life. Now stop trying to make me feel bad about doing the same!"

He was quiet for a few minutes, the usual anger that their banter brought forth now dying down. He wasn't looking at her, but after taking a few deep breaths, his eyes found hers.

"He's my brother, Ryan."

It was God's honest truth. The only thing weapon that he could use against her and conquer. She was pregnant with his brother's child. That was what was killing him. Not the fact that she'd moved on, but the fact that she'd moved on with Sam.

"And he deserves to be happy too."

With that, she turned away from him and continued toward the door, walking away from the conversation, from all of it. She couldn't be there too long, or the metaphorical stitches that had healed so nicely would rip apart and she would be right back to where she started.

"I still pretend she's you, you know," he said before she reached the door, in a whisper, but just loud enough so that he knew she would hear.

Her feet stopped moving, her fists clenched and her eyes shut tightly.

For a few seconds, she contemplated in her head what would happen if she left her new life behind and jumped back into the world of Dean Winchester. Her heart seemed to envelope in flames and she could feel the fire pouring through her veins the way it used to, whenever he would walk into a room or wink at her or hold her hand. She hadn't felt that in forever. She missed it. But as quickly as the fire came, the realization came. They both had lives now, they both had responsibilities that couldn't just be walked away from without a second glance. They needed stop, to end the chapter, to swallow the key and never let the fire resurface.

"Me too…" she replied in the same heavy voice.

Her fists unclenched, her eyes opened and her feet began to move again.

She walked out of the room without looking back.

She ate Christmas dinner next to Sam, held Sam's hand as they listened to Lisa's father play Christmas carols on the piano. And she kissed Sam at the end of the night, as they lay next to each other in the dark.

She would never tell him, he would never know.


End file.
